IV
With every passing day, the rumors flying around about King Alfonse multiplied. Selvia summoned the high nobles who made up the core of the kingdom’s governance and made the king’s condition public. At the same time, he declared that he would serve as regent. In the whole of his life Selvia had hardly ever set foot outside the castle. Given that he did not have the backing of any of the influential high nobles, was sickly, and had never involved himself in matters of state, he was prepared for an outpouring of protest. In reality, however, despite a few unhappy voices, his installation as regent had been accepted so readily it felt anticlimactic. It was universally true of the high nobility that they were always trying to carve out a place at the center of power, whether great or small. Selvia might have been the son of the king, but as he had not officially been named heir to the throne, there was no reason for them to let him do as he pleased. If anything, it was the perfect opportunity for the high nobles who coveted the throne to usurp it. Selvia was able to assume his role as regent despite this only because they all understood that the Kingdom of Fernest was a sinking ship. No one wanted to captain a vessel that was headed straight to the bottom. When a nation fell, it was the king’s head that was first on the block. It was largely the product of an instinct to value self-preservation above all else, and in that sense, the high nobles’ way of thinking was entirely reasonable.
It was Blood, who had had supreme military authority thrust upon him in total disregard for his own wishes, who made this point, adding a healthy dollop of sarcasm.
Selvia’s Private Quarters, Leticia Castle, Fis
“General Blood and Lieutenant General Olivia have just arrived, Your Royal Highness.”
“Sara, it’s just the two of us. Just talk how you usually do,” Selvia said, grimacing slightly. But Sara’s stiff expression did not relax for a second.
“I do not mean to presume, my prince, but no one forced you into this position—you sought it out. I humbly suggest that you set aside such excessively naive ideas.”
“True,” Selvia admitted at length. “You’re right.”
“I am glad you understand. Now, how is your health today?”
Selvia felt deeply grateful to his older sister who, despite her strict attitude, was concerned about him.
“I’m in top form today,” he said, raising his arms and flexing. “I think I could even run.”
“You certainly must not,” Sara replied at once, looking stern.
“I wouldn’t do anything so silly, of course,” Selvia added hastily. “We can’t have the prince regent embarrassing himself in front of Generals Blood and Olivia.”
He pulled on the king’s cloak which he still looked extremely uncomfortable to be wearing. Sara silently made a number of small adjustments, her manner every bit that of an older sister worried after her little brother.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Blood suddenly realized that they were moving away from the audience chamber.
The royal guard who walked ahead of them replied, “I am instructed to conduct you not to the audience chamber, but to the prince regent’s personal chambers.”
His personal chambers? Blood wondered what the prince regent meant by this, to no avail. They continued down the corridor, then up two flights of stairs. He noticed affectionately how Olivia’s attention was drawn by the view out over the city through the windows as they came to a door at the end of the corridor. The guard stopped.
“General Blood and Lieutenant General Olivia for His Highness.”
“Show them in.” Sara’s voice answered. They entered to see a nervous-looking young man standing there.
So this is the guy... Blood thought. The prince had the face of a man who had never known violence and was so slight he looked like a breath would blow him away. His skin was so pale that his veins showed through. It was said that the prince was prone to illness; here was the proof.
“I thank you for coming at such short notice.” One would never have guessed he was speaking to his inferiors from the deference in his tone—for a moment, Blood was at a loss for how to respond. He realized belatedly that he had done something unbelievably stupid and tried to drop to one knee, but Selvia raised a hand to stop him.
“Here, at any rate, there is no need for formalities. Lieutenant General Olivia, the same goes...” Selvia trailed off. Olivia hadn’t even tried to kneel. Instead, she strode boldly toward him. “Wh-What...er...”
“You sort of remind me of Ashton.”
“I... Ash...? Eh...?” Selvia’s voice rose to a squeak as he processed Olivia’s unusual behavior. Next, Olivia took his cheeks in both hands, then pulled his face so close to hers that their noses almost touched.
“Ah, yep. When I do this, you go red just like him too.”
“Uwhhh...”
“L-Lieutenant General, that’s enough.” Sara, apparently unable to endure any more of this, laboriously detached Olivia from Selvia. Blood couldn’t help but feel renewed admiration for Claudia.
Once they were all settled on the sofa, Selvia straightened his collar, then said, “Now, I believe you are already aware of how I came to be regent.”
Blood only nodded.
“I have been sickly since birth,” the prince continued, “so my father never considered me as his successor. I have never tried to involve myself in politics. The only reason I became regent is because I fear for the fate of the kingdom. However, I am not foolish enough to think this sentiment alone will be enough to lead a nation.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but I’m not sure I understand your point.” Blood was indirect but still let a little bite creep into his voice. Selvia folded his hands in his lap, then, looking down, went on haltingly.
“I am aware of my own inadequacy, just as I am aware that my father’s leadership brought about our current situation. My point, if you like, is that I will not get involved in military matters, nor will I impose any restrictions. I arranged for this audience so that you might have the chance to look me over directly.”
For a long moment, Blood stared at Selvia in silence. “Holding the audience in your personal chambers is part of that, then?”
“By all means, laugh at my foolishness. I thought this the best way to demonstrate to you my true character.”
Blood took another look around the room. It was spacious enough, but there were no decorative furnishings to speak of. A faint herbal aroma hung about not only Selvia, but the whole space. A painting of a gallant knight on horseback raising a sword spoke volumes to Selvia’s feelings. Nine people out of ten, if told without prior knowledge that this room belonged to the prince regent, would have dismissed it out of hand as a bad joke.
“It seems you’ve got more sense than your fool of a father,” Blood said, laying his life on the line to try and draw the prince out. If Selvia flew into a rage and ordered his execution, that would mean everything he had said thus far was no more than empty rhetoric and he was unworthy of trust. Sara must have perceived his intent, for she made no attempt to reprimand him. Instead, she turned anxiously to her younger brother.
Selvia, for his part, smiled courteously. “Your anger is justified, General Blood. On behalf of my fool of a father, I would like to apologize.” And without hesitation, he bowed to his subject.
Blood kept back a whistle of admiration, even as he thought to himself, Who’d have thought the world liked irony this much?
He knelt once more, giving the gesture of respect due to one’s liege. “I hope you will excuse my rudeness.”
“I can expect your full cooperation, then?”
“I’ll do everything with what little power I have not to disappoint you, Your Highness.” Blood looked up and saw relief on Selvia’s face.
“If there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I very much appreciate that. Getting straight to business, then...” Blood ran through what he immediately required while Selvia wrote down each item in a notebook. In the process, the prince seemed to ease up a little, and he at last noticed that Olivia had been watching him the whole time. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Lieutenant General Olivia, I know it’s late to mention this, but I wanted to thank you for rescuing my elder sister, Princess Sara, back at Fort Peshitta.”
“Huh, so you’re her little brother? I guess you do look alike.”
“Do we really...?”
Sara watched as her little brother scratched his nose, looking at the floor. That, she knew, was what he did when he was embarrassed. It made her think of how very dear he was to her.
Back when she first discovered what he intended, she had been surprised. It also made her eager to support her brother who, unable to fly free from the confines of the castle that caged him, had never been able to choose his own path in life. Of course, she was still worried, and all the more so because she knew that she, his unworthy sister, was the one who had motivated him. The future of the Kingdom of Fernest did not look bright, and her brother had many struggles awaiting him. But seeing him begin to act according to his own will filled her with vicarious pride.
“Even here in the palace, your valor is legendary, Lieutenant General,” Selvia said. “I trust that you and General Blood will continue to lend us your strength.” He looked Olivia straight in the eyes, then bowed.
When did he learn how to look like that? Sara wondered. She felt happy, but also somehow sad.
“’Course we will,” Olivia replied. “After all, there’s something I’ve got to see through.”
“Is there? Whatever could it be?” Sara asked, but no sooner was the question out of her mouth than they heard running footsteps from the corridor.
“I’ll go see what’s going on,” Blood said, then ducked out of the room. He returned shortly afterward, a look of extreme consternation on his face.
“What is it?” Selvia asked.
Blood scratched the back of his head. “You’ve heard of the Azure Knights, Your Highness?”
“Yes, of course. Rumors say they are the empire’s greatest army. But I’d heard they defected.”
“Well, it would seem that those defectors are asking for my protection.”
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